A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement
by Richonne
Summary: Beth makes a proposal to Daryl Dixon. She'll make him comfortable if he'll keep her safe from walkers and other men in the camp. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings**: Allusions to rape.

**A/N:** I've been adding breaks between scenes to differentiate POV and scene changes but the formatting gets lost when I upload a chapter. I go in on site and edit it but the changes never take effect. Sorry. 

* * *

The cries of a woman while she was being raped were the most horrible sounds Beth Greene had ever imagined. The sound, which came from the tent beside hers, followed Beth into her sleep. She'd wanted to get up and help the woman, but Andrea had staunchly refused to allow her out of the tent. It was her third day in the camp, and she knew she didn't have long before she was the one crying in the night as some man she didn't know or want grunted and sweated atop her as he violated her in the worst possible way.

"I thought you liked Jacqui," Beth said the following morning. She had her canteen, toothbrush, and a tube of stale paste. Andrea made work of brushing her teeth without immediately responding.

"I like Jacqui a lot. She's a good woman, but there was nothing either of us could have done to help her. Beth, the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be. Come on. We have to get laundry done with the other women."

Beth took Andrea's arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound critical."

Andrea smiled, albeit sadly, and nodded. "It's okay."

"Andrea."

"Shit," Andrea whispered. She plastered on a serene expression when she turned to their leader, Brian Blake, who preferred to be called the Governor. "Yes, Governor?"

"How is the newest member of the family doing?"

He looked right past Beth and at Andrea. She could have been the leader's woman, but Andrea had balked at the idea from the moment Beth mentioned it on her first day in camp. The Governor's women had a way of disappearing, and nobody would dare question where they went. She also found it rich that he called their group a family, when brothers were allowed to rape and terrorize their 'sisters' at will.

"She's doing very well, Sir."

"Aw, now, you don't have to 'Sir' me, Andrea. Call me Brian."

Andrea only smiled and looked to the ground as the Governor intentionally crowded her space. "You seem upset," he said.

"Jacqui was raped last night," Andrea said.

"That's unfortunate."

"It wouldn't happen…Brian…if you would institute rules against it," she said, Beth thought, rather bravely.

The Governor's eyes, always a little empty except when he was gazing at a woman with lust, became a little darker.

"I've told you before, Andrea, I don't make it my business to tell another man what he can do with an unclaimed woman. I know that infuriates you, what with your background as a Liberal and a civil rights lawyer before the Turn. Still, modern ideals of male/female relations no longer apply in our circumstances."

"It's wrong, Governor. It's just wrong. We don't have to degenerate into-"

"If Jacqui had killed her attacker she wouldn't have been in a bit of trouble. Is that wrong?"

"So she either has to be a rape victim or become a murderer?" Andrea questioned.

"I really don't care for your tone," the Governor shot back. "I provide people safety from the biters, and I make sure we're all fed and sheltered. It isn't down to me to handhold the hand of every single woman in the camp. Understood?"

"Understood," she said, disgust evident in her voice. "If you'll excuse us, Sir, we have to go with the other women to the quarry to wash clothes."

"Well, we all appreciate the work you women put in for us in that regard, cooking, cleaning, washing. I'm sure a pair of lovely women such as yourselves shouldn't have problems finding a man to take you in and offer you protection. Ladies," he said, bowing his head as he walked on.

Andrea stared daggers into his back and insisted Beth follow her on with the line of women who were taking loads of dirty clothes toward the path that led down to the water. One of them was Jacqui. Her shoulders were stooped, her head down. Beth and Andrea caught up with her as she struggled with a basket of clothes.

"Jacqui," Andrea said.

"Morning," she replied, seemingly operating on autopilot.

"I'm so sorry for-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," Andrea conceded, looking almost relieved.

"Well, I do. There's got to be something we can do. How many people are in this camp?" Beth asked.

"Beth-"

"This is important, Andrea."

Andrea shook her head. Beth was so much like Amy it was sometimes difficult for her to remember they were two different girls. They didn't just both have blond hair and big eyes. They'd both been stubborn, headstrong girls who didn't take shit from anybody.

"We've got over fifty people."

"I've counted about seven unclaimed women," said Beth. "We should bunk together at night. If someone tries to come in and start something we attack."

"There isn't a tent big enough for that," said Jacqui.

"We'll just have to make one, won't we?" Beth replied. "And we don't go off alone anywhere, either. We stick together, always armed, and we don't hesitate to shoot. We have to let them know it's not safe to fuck with us anymore."

Jacqui wiped at the tears spilling from her eyes. "That's a good idea."

"Who did it?" asked Andrea.

"Lee Magwood."

"Magwood?" asked Andrea.

Jacqui nodded and Andrea shook her head.

"He calls black people nigger, talks about how good whites shouldn't mix with blacks, and then he rapes a black woman? What the fuck?"

"He had the nerve to tell me there he didn't like dark meat but he hadn't had any ass in three months and he was desperate."

"You should kill that motherfucker," Andrea said.

"I just want to get the laundry done," said Jacqui. "I just…"

Andrea nodded and took one half of the basket to help Jacqui carry it to the water. 

* * *

"You hear, little brother? Mark Rowley put Jessica out. Word has it he wants that new blond chick that came in a few days ago. Now, how long you think a sweet little piece of ass like that is gonna last in this camp before somebody goes at her? I mean, she's young, pretty. She's a brown-haired, black-eyed little angel with a big rack and a round ass."

Beth was about to open a can of green beans when she heard Merle Dixon's voice passing outside the tent she and Andrea shared, later that evening. She halted and listened, waiting for Andrea and Jacqui to get back with the other unclaimed women.

"Did you offer Jessica your protection?" his younger brother, Daryl, asked.

Merle laughed the suggestion off. "She ain't gonna agree to be my woman, little brother. And that new girl? She ain't got but another day or two before somebody gets summa that, what with that blond hair and them pretty blue eyes..."

Their voices faded as they moved off. Andrea entered a few minutes later with Jacqui. Both women looked angry.

"The Governor heard what we were proposing and he refused it. He's not just complacent with rape, he's actively making it more difficult for us to ban together for protection."

"Maybe we should just leave," Beth suggested.

Andrea looked at Beth as though she'd said something monumentally stupid. "How long do you think we'd last out there on our own?"

"We could do it," Beth insisted. "We could take the weapons we have, our supplies and tents, and just get out."

"The Governor would let us leave, but he wouldn't let us take so much as a butter knife with us," said Jacqui. "You both know he wouldn't. The rules say that no man can touch a claimed woman that isn't his. He can face beating or even banishment if he does it more than once, but he's welcome to rape unclaimed women and we're not supposed to do anything to stop it. He's a sick man. Do you really think he'd let us leave with supplies?"

Jacqui slept in Andrea and Beth's tent that night. Thankfully neither Lee Magwood nor any other man bothered them. Merle's words haunted Beth, however, because she knew it made sense. A young, blond haired blue eyed girl without protection in a camp full of redneck cutthroats didn't stand a chance of escaping without being raped. She had to do something. She had to get a man before the worst happened to her. 

* * *

Next morning Beth got up early and went to relieve her bladder before everyone in the camp was up and at it. She found a secluded spot within shouting distance should a walker approach. She'd just finished and zipped up when something came out of the blue and hit her in the face.

Beth stumbled back and threw her hand up in defense, barely blocking another blow. They continued to rain down on her with vicious rapidity. She fell back and rolled away, trying to see who the hell was attacking her like a wild animal, and saw a young woman with brown hair and black eyes rushing toward her, screaming madly, her eyes bright with hatred.

"You fucking bitch! It's all your fault!"

Beth brought one of her feet up, directly into the girls stomach, and was rewarded with the sound of a painful grunt and air rushing from her. She fell back but she was so angry she didn't seem to notice she'd been kicked. She crawled at Beth, spittle flying from her mouth, grunting and breathing like a beast lost in bloodlust.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you."

"All right, that's enough."

Jessica was hauled backward. She struggled and slapped at the man who had pulled her away from Beth. It was Daryl Dixon. Beth's eyes stung with tears, her feelings hurt, but also beneath that was a lot of anger.

"She sucker punched me!"

"You couldn't handle me, bitch, even if you'd seen it comin' a mile away," Jessica shouted. She spat at Beth.

"Stop!" Daryl ordered, and shoved Jessica away.

"She's taking my man! Do you know what that means?"

"I don't want your man. I don't even know him."

Beth accepted Daryl's proffered hand and stood up. Her eye stung and she could feel it swelling already. It was going to bruise, and it would be bad.

"It doesn't matter what you want, you stupid whore," Jessica raged. "He threw me out, said he was taking you instead. God knows how many men are gonna pass me around now."

"Nobody's gonna pass you around," said Daryl. "You're a beautiful girl. You've got your pick of men who'll take you as theirs."

"Like who? Merle?" Jessica scoffed.

"You talking shit about my brother, bitch?" Daryl said, crowding her. Jessica backed off, unwilling to risk pissing off a man.

"No."

"Get back to camp. Keep your hands off this girl, Jessica. Beating up on her ain't gonna do shit to help your situation."

Jessica gave Beth a withering glare that said, plainly, that she'd take a shot at her again first chance she got, and then stomped off toward camp.

"Thank you," Beth said, wiping at the tears that spilled from her eyes.

Daryl nodded, hefted his crossbow over his shoulder, and gestured toward camp. "Come on. It's a bad idea for an unclaimed woman to go walking around alone. That could just as easily have been a man, or two, waiting to gang rape you out here."

Beth knew that, and cursed herself for not waiting for Andrea to wake and come with her, but her bladder had been full to bursting. She considered this lesson learned as she looked at Daryl's profile. He had short, sandy hair and walked with a straight, proud back. He wasn't bad looking at all. In fact, he was kind of hot, if not a little older than what she'd normally consider boyfriend material. Plus, he'd saved her.

"Do you have a woman?"

Daryl shook his head. "No."

"Maybe you and I could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement? I can cook, keep your tent clean, wash your clothes, keep you comfortable, and you could give me one of those tokens. Then I'd be safe from the men in camp."

He stopped and looked down at Beth. She was so damned young and innocent, not even considering that sex was usually a part of one of those 'mutually beneficial' arrangements. She'd cried when Jessica hit her and Daryl had seen it wasn't just the pain of a black eye that brought tears to her eyes, but the fact that someone could be so cruel to her for no reason. He didn't think she would last long in the shit soup this world had become. He'd watched her from the moment she'd entered camp and she crept up in his mind in the quiet moments before sleep, or when he first woke up. He didn't believe in claiming women as property. He also hated the rapes that went on, but knew he was powerless to change it. Even with all of that, he didn't need or want a burden or a mouth to feed.

She was now looking past him. Daryl turned and saw that Jim had returned from a supply run with Shane Walsh and some other members of the group. He was now at Andrea's tent talking to Jacqui, who stood crying and telling him something-probably about Lee Magwood raping her-and his face was red with rage. He had a sawed off slung over his shoulder and Daryl had a pretty good idea what was coming next.

"Who is that? Are he and Jacqui a couple?"

"That's Jim. They're friends," Daryl said. "I don't know if they're more than that. I don't know if he likes her or not. It's pretty much known that Jacqui's off limits, even if she doesn't have one of those damn tokens."

Daryl watched Jim storm off into camp.

"Trouble's coming," Daryl said, and followed Jim. Beth found herself moving along with Andrea and Jacqui behind them.

Daryl did nothing to stop Jim from opening Lee Magwood's tent and dragging him out. By now the camp was waking up, fires were spilling columns of smoke into the air. The smell of eggs cooking and coffee brewing was light in the cool morning air. Everyone watched as Jim began punching Lee in the face.

"You put your hands on Jacqui. You're fucking dead!"

"What's your problem?" Lee said, shoving Jim away. "You're not fucking her. You said yourself you're just friends."

"Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should, you punk!" Jim shouted.

"Now look, Jim, you back off. Jacqui's unclaimed-whoa!"

Jim leveled his shotgun at Lee.

"That's enough."

The only thing that stopped Jim from pulling the trigger was the arrival of Shane Walsh.

"Shane, he raped Jacqui."

"Well, that's not against the rules, now is it, Jim? You want her safe when you're not around you need to put your mark on her."

"But-"

"Jim, we've talked about this. Rules are rules. You're not killing one of our brothers for something that's not against the rules, no matter how disgusting it was, or how much he needs killing. The only one who could have done that was Jacqui, when it first happened."

Lee had been grinning at Jim, rubbing his face in the shit, until Shane spoke those last few words. He bit his lip and looked down, not daring to sass.

"Go to Mary. She'll make you a token to give to Jacqui."

"I want one for Andrea, too," he said.

"One woman per man unless you're a ranking officer, and you're not. You gotta pick, Jim. Jacqui or Andrea? Either way, they gotta move into your tent to make it legal. What do I want to hear from you men?"

"Yes sir," they said in unison.

"Good. The matter's settled. Let's break it up."

Shane nodded once at Daryl as the men dispersed. Jim headed further into camp, to Mary's to have a token made, while the others went back to business as usual.

"Daryl, tell Merle we're having a council meeting with the Governor at nine."

"Sure," Daryl said.

Andrea, who'd watched the entire exchange in silence, moved off after Shane. "Hey, Shane. Got a minute?"

Daryl looked back at Beth. "Go back to Andrea's tent and keep out of sight. It ain't safe out here."

"Will you at least think about it?" Beth asked.

"Yeah," he said, and moved off with his crossbow over his shoulder.

That evening, as Beth was cooking a pot of beans with Andrea, Daryl stopped by their tent and held out a chain with a wooden token toward Beth. Burned into the wood were two letters. D.D.

"You still want it?"

He watched the relief that came over Beth's face as she reached for the token. He knew she didn't have much of an idea of what kind of an agreement she was entering into as she slipped the token over her head.

"Andrea, talk to her. Make sure she knows what's expected of her. If you don't mind, help her move her shit into my tent."

"Sure thing, Daryl. Thanks," Andrea said.

Beth looked to Andrea. "Wait, you'll be all alone."

Andrea shrugged. "I've got a few prospects. Don't worry about me, kid. I can take care of myself. Now let's get inside and pack up your things."

Beth started into the tent but turned to watch Daryl move off into the camp. She had a man to keep her safe from rapists and walkers now, and that was a relief, but a new thought at the back of her mind made her anxious. She didn't know anything about Daryl Dixon. He could be cruel. He could be anything, and now she'd accepted his mark and made herself his. As she went into Andrea's tent to pack, she had only one thing on her mind: She hoped Daryl was a good man.


	2. Chapter 2

Beth spent her first night in Daryl's tent alone and on edge. She stayed up, unable to sleep, until almost midnight, waiting for him to return from checking traps in the woods. She was sure that he would want more than dinner from her, in exchange for keeping her safe by giving her his token, but she was alone when she went to sleep.

When she awoke the next morning Daryl was sitting up, putting on his socks, ignoring her.

"Did I oversleep?"

He shook his head no.

"I waited up for you but you didn't come home."

Daryl shrugged. "What, do I have to report to you now, just because we share a tent?"

Mystified by his sour mood, Beth shook her head. "No. I didn't mean it like that…"

Her voice trailed away and he finished tying his boots.

"How about some coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee. I got you a box of instant oats. Eat that for breakfast."

"Don't you want-"

"I'll be late again tonight, so don't wait up," he said, speaking over her, and then prepared to leave the tent.

"Have I upset you?"

"Oh, fuck," he said, sighing in annoyance. "Are you one of those types? The kind who nags a man and has to be reassured he's not mad at her all the damn time? I don't need that shit in my life."

"I'm sorry. I won't ask again."

"Whatever."

He left the tent, and Beth felt tears stinging at her eyes. What the hell had she done to put him in such a bad mood? Why was he being such a dick? She'd hoped he'd turn out to be the quiet but nice type, but he was turning out to be a serious asshole.

Still, she didn't care. She'd wash his clothes, cook when he wanted her to, and even let him fuck her when the mood took him, but she wasn't going to try to play the doting little woman who was all smiles and honey-baby. If he wanted to be cold, she could be cold too. All that mattered was that she kept his mark.

Outside she saw Andrea stepping out of Shane's RV. She had a token around her neck. Relief coursed through Beth as she approached.

"I spent all night worried about you," she said, coming up on Andrea. "I kept listening to see if I could hear if you were in distress, even this far from your tent. So, you're with Shane?"

Andrea didn't have the smile on her face that Beth had hoped for. In fact, she looked exhausted, and she didn't try to make eye contact.

"Are you okay?"

"I like my eggs scrambled, baby," Shane said, opening the RV door.

"You got it," she said, smiling up at him.

He nodded at Beth and then disappeared back inside.

She whispered to Beth, "I'm fine. We'll talk later, when we go to the quary."

Sensing that now wasn't a good time to press the issue, Beth left Andrea and returned to the tent she shared with Daryl to make her own breakfast of instant oats and instant coffee.

There was trouble brewing, Daryl could sense it, even though Merle never saw fit to fill him in on the inside track. That was fine by him. Daryl had always been more comfortable following someone else's lead. He was a good soldier and didn't care to try to move up the ranks, regardless of how much his brother encouraged him to do so.

Now, after a five day absence, the Governor's third man in charge, Rick Grimes, had returned. Daryl liked Rick a lot better than Shane. He could sense that Rick was something Shane wasn't: a man of honor. Shane was a cutthroat, like the Governor. Truth be told, though, Daryl missed the man Rick had been before his wife and son had been swarmed by the small herd of walkers that had overrun their first camp. Rick had lost his way for a long time after that. He'd sunk into madness and he was just now clawing all the way out of that dark and miserable pit.

"Rick," Daryl said, offering his hand.

Rick gave it a firm shake and took a seat on the couch in the Governor's RV. He'd requested Daryl's presence at this meeting

"So, what have you to report, Rick?" asked the Governor. He was sipping tea and looking, in Daryl's opinion, a little too prissy for his own good. Daryl didn't trust the Governor as far as he could throw him. He thought that perhaps Rick felt the same way. There was a certain level of tension between him and Rick, and it was almost all down to ideology. They often disagreed on how to run things, and if it wasn't for Shane's constant interference, Daryl imagined Rick would attempt a coup, or the Governor would try to have Rick killed to simply get him out of the way.

If push came to shove, Daryl had long ago decided he'd side with Rick. He'd also have to make his brother do the same.

"There's a town about twenty miles from here called Woodbury. It's a settlement with about twenty-five survivors. They've built protective walls in a fairly substantial radius around the heart of the town. I think, should we approach it right, they would be willing to welcome us in."

Shane snorted, and the Governor smiled indulgently before shaking his head at Rick.

"What's so funny?" Rick asked, barely keeping the exasperation from his voice.

"Rick, you're ever the dove, aren't you?" said the Governor. "I'm a hawk. I take what I think is good for me and my people. This settlement you've found, Woodbury, well…they're going to do more than welcome us in."

"Brian, there's no need to rush in there with guns blazing. Those are good people. Peaceful people. They have women, children, elderly folks-"

"Then I'm sure these good people will happily hand over the settlement for us to take over and improve upon. Am I right?"

Merle only nodded. He was uncharacteristically quiet, even considering he was with the Governor. Not a lot scared Merle Dixon, but Daryl knew he was shit-his-pants afraid of Brian Blake.

Shane took the boot licking a step further. Not out of fear, but out of genuine admiration. "Damn straight, Governor."

"What do you think, Daryl?" Rick asked.

Suddenly on the spot, Daryl felt eight eyes bore into him, waiting for an answer.

"Daryl's not on this council, Rick," Shane pointed out.

"He should be. I value his opinion. Daryl, what do you think?"

"If it was up to me, I'd knock on the door. Give 'em a choice."

Merle shook his head, as though ashamed of his little brother's answer. Daryl suspected Merle feared he would appear weak to the Governor and that could get them both killed, or worse, expelled from camp. "I didn't know you were so damned soft, Daryl. Don't be such a fucking pussy. I taught you better than that."

"Neither did I," said the Governor. "Unfortunately for you, Daryl, it isn't up to you, and, as Shane rightfully pointed out, you're not on this council. You're dismissed."

With a shake of his head, Daryl grabbed his crossbow and headed out of the RV. He heard Rick make a comment about him not going too far. Whatever it was he wanted to discuss, Daryl wanted no part of it. He wasn't trying to be dragged into the middle of a power play between Rick and the Governor. That kind of shit, he knew, could get you killed.

He saw his new woman, Beth, walking with Andrea toward the quarry with a trolley loaded with dirty clothes. He'd been rude to her that morning, and he regretted it, but he didn't know how to deal with her. He'd never been good with women outside of action in the sheets. He could bed one, but talking to her, or trying to live with her? That was a whole other matter.

Daryl took a peep into the tent. It was completely unrecognizable now. Their sleeping bags were made up as proper beds and everything had been squared neatly away. Hell, it even smelled clean. She'd left a plate of scrambled eggs and bread sitting on his bed, covered with a cloth. _Woman food_, he thought, as he sat down on the cooler he used for a table or a chair interchangeably. He tasted the eggs and nodded approval to himself. She could cook on an open flame without burning everything.

His thoughts, unsurprisingly, turned to the woman herself. She was young, probably no older than eighteen, and she was cute. He'd stayed gone the night before, hoping to come in to find her asleep, not because he didn't want to talk, but because he didn't want to address the issue of sex. He knew that if she ever threw herself at him he wouldn't be strong enough to say no. Hell, he'd come close to mounting her in the middle of the night as it was. It had been a long time since he'd sank balls deep into a woman, and that's what he wanted now.

Still, the idea of it bothered him. He doubted she wanted him. She had, after all, proposed a 'mutually beneficial' arrangement, strictly to keep from being gang raped and passed around, not because she actually wanted to be with him. He knew sex as part of that arrangement, but he wasn't sure how, or when, he would take advantage of that particular perk.

"Daryl?"

It was Rick Grimes. He peeped his head into the tent and Daryl motioned for him to come in.

"I've got something I need to talk to you about," Rick said, and took a seat on the floor.

"What's wrong, Andrea?"

"Shane claimed me," she said.

"That's a bad thing?"

"It's not bad, exactly," she shrugged. "Let's just say he didn't waste time taking advantage of the sexual aspect of the arrangement. He was on me as soon as I set my things down. Pig."

She looked over Beth, who was scrubbing Daryl's underwear in a bucket of soapy water.

"How about Daryl?"

"He didn't come in last night until after midnight, but I was asleep. He didn't try anything. He probably will tonight. He's mean."

Andrea cocked a brow. "Mean, or just uncouth?"

Beth giggled and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Uncouth, I guess. Rude. I don't care. As long as he doesn't hit me or rough me up too much."

She stopped washing and glanced to the sky. It was clouding over and would probably rain before they could finish the laundry. A crow sailed across the sky with casual grace.

"How did this happen?"

"The turn?" asked Andrea, ringing Shane's things out.

"No. Well, yes, I wonder that too but, I wonder how come all the progress women have made in this country has gone out the window so completely."

Andrea cocked a brow. "Women have always been second class citizens, Beth. We always will be. The only difference now is that there's no legal recourse for us. Men can do whatever they want to us and we can't do shit about it unless we take matters into our own hands."

They washed in silence, their thoughts turning to life in a camp where women were property, like the chickens and the guns and the knives. They'd just finished loading the trolley when the wind began to pick up.

"Have you seen Jacqui this morning?" Beth asked.

"I think she and Jim left in the middle of the night," Andrea answered. "Their tent was gone this morning when I got up."

"You don't think the Governor-"

"Beth Greene."

"Oh, God," Andrea sighed under her breath.

A man was walking toward them. He was young, in his mid to late twenties, with cocoa colored eyes and mahogany colored hair. He was thin, stood about five ft. eight, but walked as though he was seven feet tall with his somewhat weak chin jutting forward. Despite the jeans and t-shirt he wore, he had a prep school boy air to him. There was a liberal dose of snobbery in the smirk on his face and the twist of his thin lips.

"Mark Rowley," he said, but his expression soured when he saw the token around her neck. "Who gave you that?"

"I'm sorry, but how is that your business?" Beth asked. She remembered Merle Dixon saying he had thrown his girlfriend out with the intentions of taking her as his own.

He gripped the token and made a noise of angry disgust. There was a moment when she thought he would rip the chain from her neck.

"Daryl Dixon. A girl as beautiful as you can do better than that white trash piece of shit," he said.

Beth tried to take the token back, but his grip remained firm. "Let go."

"Or what?" he challenged. "You'll tell Daryl on me?"

"As a matter of fact," she said, and looked past him, opening her mouth s though to speak.

Mark released the token at once and moved swiftly away from Beth. He spun around to find the path empty behind him.

"That's what I thought," Beth said, smirking along with Andrea. "I will be having a discussion with Daryl about this."

"Don't forget to mention Mark's obnoxious Napoleon complex while you're at it," Andrea said. She and Beth broke into laughter.

"Bitch." He all but snarled the word at Andrea, then looked down at the token around her neck. S.W. was burned into the wood. He may have been a woman-hating bully but he was not a complete fool. Mark made no attempt to grab at Andrea's token. Nor did he move to say another word.

"I'll let Shane know exactly what you think of me."

"I was talking to her," he said quickly, nodding at Beth. He must have figured Daryl as less of a threat than Shane. Either way, losing his temper and attempting to bully Beth was going to spell bad news for him, and all three of them knew it. He backed away.

"If you ever decide you want a real man, I'm only-"

"I won't bother to call you, that's for damn sure," Beth said, and continued up the path with Andrea, just as the first of the raindrops began to fall.

The storm that came in seemed determined to destroy every tent in the camp. It was late March and the weather had turned unexpectedly cold for Georgia. Beth wouldn't have been surprised if snow started to mix with the rain. Shivering, she took the meat she'd cooked in the fire pit and put it on a plate, made sure the flames were extinguished, which wasn't difficult considering how hard it rained, by leaving the cover off the pit, and entered the tent. Daryl came in just as she finished making two plates, his hair soaked and his jacket dripping. His eyes had a red quality to them. She watched as he lifted a bottle of rum to his lips before he offered it to her.

"Oh, no thanks," she said.

"I'm not drunk if that's what you're thinking," he said, somewhat aggressively.

"I'm not thinking anything like that. Dinner's ready."

"I'll eat later. I saw you talking to Mark Rowley earlier. What'd he want?"

Beth shrugged. "To bully me, I guess," she said, spreading a little bit of the butter one of the women in camp had churned, onto a piece of bread. Suddenly Daryl gripped her arm and she dropped the bread.

"Ow!"

He released his grip but his eyes were on fire with anger. "Bully you how?"

"It was nothing-"

"I asked you a question, girl. How did he bully you?"

"He said I could do better than white trash like you. I told him I was going to have a word with you but he didn't seem to care. He called Andrea a bitch but tried to make it out like he was talking to me. Look, Daryl, he's a weak little piece of shit. He's not worth it. I don't want any trouble-"

"This ain't about what you want," Daryl told her. "This is about him disrespecting me. I can't let him put his hands on what's mine and not do anything. It'll make me look weak."

He corked his rum and got up.

"Daryl-"

"Stay here, you hear me? Don't leave this tent."

Beth sat down, wishing like hell he hadn't seen anything, and that she'd lied about what had really happened with Mark, but she figured lying would only put her on dangerous ground with Daryl. She looked at the bottle of rum and thought that it was likely Daryl Dixon was a mean drunk. Sure, she didn't like Mark Rowley, but she didn't want to be responsible for getting someone hurt.

It seemed to take forever before Daryl returned. When he did, his knuckles were red and bloody, but it wasn't his blood.

"I'll get you a bandage," she said nervously. "I've got a clean towel here too."

"You scared of me?" he asked.

She turned back to him with the towel and she knew what was on his mind when she looked into his stormy blue eyes. She'd read romance novels where men wanted to fuck their women after they were in a fight. She'd always thought that was silly purple prose nonsense but now she was starting to think there may have been a grain of truth to it. Daryl seemed worked up, and not just with rage.

"No, of course not."

She couldn't quite hide the quiver in her voice, however. The truth of the matter was that she was a little bit frightened of Daryl Dixon. She was also aroused by him in a way she couldn't understand. Why would a man who displayed violence and a bad attitude make her belly quiver? She assumed part of it was the intense look of lust in his eyes, and the fact that he was sexy in that redneck kind of way.

Seeing her nervousness made Daryl's dick harden even more than it already was. He'd kicked Mark's ass for crossing the line. He'd done his part in the arrangement, and he felt it was time she lived up to every single aspect of her part of the deal. His blood was pumping, and the sight of her, nervous and small in front of him, made him want her more than he wanted air to breathe.

Daryl wrapped a hand behind Beth's head and pulled her roughly toward him, smothering her lips in a hard, breath stealing kiss. He turned her around and pulled her back against him. She could feel the hardened length of his cock pressing against her ass as he shoved a hand down her jeans and began to stroke her clit.

Beth's head was spinning from the sudden onslaught of sensations. He reached under her bra and began to roll one of her nipples with surprising gentleness while he kept up a fast, circling motion with his fingers. His lips latched onto her neck, sucking hard, marking her for anyone to see that she wasn't just living in his tent, she was sleeping in his bed.

He made quick work of her jeans, shoving them down. She heard the clink of his belt buckle and the zip of his pants just before he shoved her face first into the pillow of his sleeping bag. He entered her, gently at first, testing the water. Feeling she wasn't a virgin, despite how tight she was, he began to thrust. He set up a hard, punishing rhythm that made her cry out with as much pain as pleasure. She had only had sex twice in her life and wasn't used to being penetrated, especially by a long, heavy cock like Daryl's. The pace was moving quicker than Beth could keep up with. Her body wasn't sure whether to scream in pleasure as he moved faster, or pain.

A shock wave of pleasure coursed through her, even as Daryl burned her with his rock hard length in an ever increasing pace. She felt tears sting at her eyes just before he cried out and she felt the hot lava flow of his climax fill her.

"Fuck!" he swore, and pulled out of her.

She turned to her side and pulled her pants up as he sat back, his cock going flaccid, slicked with her juices and her blood. They eyed one another in the waning light of the stormy evening, the rain beating against the tent as they looked at one another.

"I'll have my dinner now," he said, and picked up his bottle of rum.

When Daryl had eaten and drank his fill, he went to sleep. Beth lay on her side and listened to the storm. The thunder masked the sound of her hitching breath as she cried into her pillow, her body aching from the sex but also strangely sated. She didn't know what to feel. She would have let him fuck her no matter what. It was just that she'd hoped he would be a gentle lover, even a boring one. That, apparently, was not going to be the case.

She wiped at her eyes and snuggled down into her sleeping bag, only to find that sleep evaded her. She longed for home. She longed for the feel of her father's protective arms around her, and her sister's smiling eyes. She would never see them again. She knew that now. She was just going to have to accept it. She was on her own. She was a woman and she would have to think like one. She wasn't just any woman; she was Daryl Dixon's woman.

Now she knew, from firsthand experience, exactly what that entailed.

View my fic blog .c o m


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary**: In which Beth must fight for herself when Daryl leaves camp with Rick. At Woodbury, Daryl proves a point about the Governor in a way Rick can't.

Daryl watched Beth prepare breakfast. She moved in silence, not so much as looking his way, even when she passed him two hard boiled eggs and a shaker of salt. She sat down, put her knees to her chest, and waited for him to finish. Her breath puffed in the cool, damp air of morning, but she made no attempt to throw on a jacket or warm her hands over the cook fire.

He'd been too rough with her the night before. Had he not been buzzing on rum and his blood pumping from that fight with Mark Rowley, he doubted he would have even touched her. If he had, it would have been a much different experience from what actually happened.

"I suck at dealing with women," he admitted.

"Yeah, you do," Beth readily agreed, still staring into the fire. "You don't have to treat me like I'm your enemy."

_I'm sorry_ wasn't in Daryl's vocabulary, so he grunted instead. He ate breakfast in silence. When he was done, he passed her the plate.

"You know how to shoot?"

She nodded. "My daddy taught me."

He gave Beth a Beretta and a clip. "Load it."

With practiced ease, Beth put the clip in and chambered a bullet, then offered it back to Daryl. He shook his head.

"You keep it. Anybody bothers you, put them down. After yesterday that ain't likely to happen. Still…better safe than sorry."

"Thanks."

"I'm heading out on a run with Rick. We'll be back tomorrow night. Shouldn't be longer than two days. If you need something ask Merle. He'll help you."

"I will."

He'd hoped Beth would wish him a safe trip, but after what went down between them the night before, he figured he didn't deserve such kindness. Without another word, Daryl picked up his supplies and met up with Rick at his RV. When he looked back, Beth was still sitting by the fire, staring into it, looking miserable. He felt a good dose of guilt for being responsible for that misery.

"What did you tell the Governor?" Daryl asked, once the door to the RV was closed.

Rick shrugged and finished fastening his harness. "That we're going on a hunting run. It won't be a complete lie. We need to bag a buck anyway. Got mouths to feed here."

"He ain't gonna buy that," Daryl pointed out.

"Probably not," Rick agreed. "You wanna back out?"

"No, I'm with you."

They headed through camp. Beth had disappeard back inside the tent. Daryl caught sight of Jessica leaving a different tent than Mark's and heading for the quarry with a towel and change of clothes in hand.

"Huh," he said.

"What's that?"

Daryl nodded at the tent Jessica had just exited. "Jessica just left Magwood's tent. I guess she's not with Rowley after I kicked his ass."

"You worried about your new woman?" asked Rick.

"I gave her a gun. She'll have to protect herself until I get back."

Rick was aware that didn't really answer the question, but he didn't press it. Daryl Dixon wasn't a man who was open with his feelings, and Rick wasn't a man to pry.

"You know, I never would have figured you for the type to go along with claiming women and treating them like property."

"It's the system here. I gotta play within the rules, man. Giving her my token was the only way to protect her and keep her from the other men."

Rick nodded. "I know. Still, it shouldn't be that way. We're better than that."

"We are, the Governor ain't," Daryl answered. He stopped when he reached the space where Jim's tent had once been. His eyes went to Rick.

"I don't know," Rick said. "After what happened to Jacqui, I wouldn't be surprised if Jim left. He'd made noise about getting her out of here before. I hope that's all that happened. I hope didn't do something stupid like challenge Brian directly."

They headed out on foot to the main road. Once there, they climbed into an old Chevy Chevette and headed north.

"These people armed?"

"Minor stuff. They don't have nearly the firepower we do. They also don't have the fortitude it takes to take living human life. Brian will run right over these people."

"Why did you even tell him about this place?" Daryl wondered.

"He's been sending Shane and Merle out this way. Eventually they were going to find Woodbury. Honestly? I think Shane would have just saved everybody the time and mowed those people down like dead grass. I think it's best if I try to mediate."

"Nothing you say is gonna have an effect on the Governor. He's kill crazy, Rick," Daryl pointed out, though he knew he wasn't telling Rick anything he didn't already know.

Still, Rick nodded his agreement and continued down the road. "That's why I want to warn these people and give them a chance to vacate."

"What if they won't?"

Rick shrugged then. "If they refuse to leave then what happens to them after that is their own fault."

With the housework done-there wasn't a lot to do in a tent-and the laundry caught up, Beth decided to head down to the quarry to wash up. As she gathered her washcloth and soap, she caught sight of her reflection in Daryl's shaving mirror.

She looked awful. Her hair was frayed and oily. Dark circles looked almost as bruised as the black eye Jessica had given her. The sucker marks Daryl had put on her were an angry red color that marred the otherwise pristine skin of her throat.

The token with Daryl's initials weighed heavily around her neck. She'd foolishly believed that taking his mark would solve her problems. Instead, she'd brought on a whole set of problems she wasn't sure she could handle. Also, being a claimed woman didn't necessarily guarantee safety. Some men just didn't care, or thought they could handle another man in a fight and would do what they wanted anyway. The truth of the matter was that she was going to have to learn to fight for herself. Andrea would help out when she could, Daryl would protect her as much as possible, but there were going to be times when the only one who'd be around to fight for Beth, was Beth.

With that being the case, Beth slipped a knife into the side of her boot and then peered outside. She looked for trouble in the form of either Mark Rowley or Jessica, the girl he'd taken back in. She didn't see them, but she didn't think that meant she was out of danger, either. Jessica had ambushed her once. Beth wasn't going to let that happen again.

Seeing that Andrea wasn't around, and deciding she wasn't going to live what little bit of a life she had left huddling scared in the tent, Beth stepped back out into the cool, moist morning air. She pretended she didn't have a care in the world as she started for the quarry. She earned interested glances from several men and women in camp, and their eyes invariably went to the marks on her neck, as well as the token that hung there. She didn't see Mark Rowley nearby and she hoped his confrontation with Daryl had been enough to cow him into behaving towards her.

Down at the quarry, Beth went to the area where tarp had been hung up to offer privacy for bathing. She took off her clothes and listened for any sign of approaching steps. She heard nothing and made quick work of lathering up and rinsing. Her hair took the longest and she worried that while she rinsed out the soap someone would jump her but, thankfully, that didn't happen.

Now cleaned up, Beth took a moment by the edge of the water to wash the outfit she'd just taken off. She was half way through when she heard the crunching sound of a boot on the rocks. She whirled around just in time to avoid Jessica's downswing. The big stone she had in her hand glanced off Beth's left shoulder, making her cry out in pain.

The forward momentum from missing her target upset Jessica's balance and she stumbled forward. Beth used the advantage to shove Jessica face first into the water and then deliver a hard kick to her ribs. Jessica sputtered but got to her feet with fierce determination, still gripping the rock, her eyes bright with what Beth now recognized as not just bitterness, but madness.

"You bitch. Because of you Daryl shamed Mark. I had to leave him to be with that piece of shit Lee Magwood!"

"I didn't make Mark disrespect Daryl," Beth pointed out. "You don't know it, Jessica, but you're crazy."

"I love Mark," she announced, somewhat dramatically.

Beth gripped her smarting shoulder. "I have a feeling he doesn't love you. I don't think he loves anyone but himself. If you touch me Daryl's going to find out and he'll come after you. He won't care that you're a woman. You can't touch what's his."

Jessica, who seemed rather fond of spitting, spat in Beth's general direction. Her blood tainted spittle barely missed Beth, who stepped back to avoid it. "Fuck you and fuck your piece of shit boyfriend, Dixon. He's trash and so are you."

Jessica pressed in on Beth, swinging with the rock again, and once again Beth moved to put space between them. She saw several people gazing on from the edge of the quarry. Andrea was coming down the path, as was Shane, their towels and clothes in hand. She knew that Shane would do nothing to interfere, and she doubted she'd let Andrea jump in, unless Beth was damn near dead.

The rock came close to striking Beth in the face. She fell back on a big rock jutting out from the ground and landed painfully on her back. With a feral screech, Jessica lunged and brought the rock down hard. Beth moved to her right and the rock hit the ground where her head had been. Acting purely on instinct, Beth pulled the knife from her boot and brought it straight up into the tender flesh just under Jessica's sternum.

Jessica made a sound, a very soft, surprised "Oh," before collapsing full-weight onto Beth. She rolled the girl off, feeling blood run over her hand. When she looked down into Jessica's face it was to see her eyes wide open, staring without seeing at the quarry wall opposite them. She was perfectly still.

She was dead.

"Beth," Andrea said, coming to her side. "Are you okay?"

"I killed her," Beth said vacantly. "Oh, God, Andrea…I killed her."

Woodbury wasn't quite what Daryl had expected. He'd assumed the wall that had been built would be nothing more than some particle board and chicken wire. Instead it was a well made, heavy wall with swinging wooden doors, high, and manned with two guards who stood atop it with pistols. He could tell, however, by the way the men held their weapons in trembling hands that they weren't keen on shooting living men who could potentially be invaders, just as Rick had said.

Rick turned off the ignition and stepped out with Daryl. The men on the wall relaxed once they saw who was there.

"Rick," one of them said.

"Donny. I need a word with Bernard, if you don't mind."

"Sure thing. We'll get the door open."

A few moments later and the heavy door was opened and Rick drove inside. He parked in one of the slots of the main street and greeted the woman who'd operated the door to let them in. She was a sturdy woman in her fifties. She didn't carry a gun but she had a monstrous looking buck knife strapped to her ample hip.

"Beverly. Good to see you."

"You too, Rick. I want to thank you again for saving my Bernie from those walkers last week."

"No problem. In fact, I'm here to see Bernard. This is my friend, Daryl Dixon. Daryl, Beverly Ashman. She's the official First Lady of Woodbury."

She shook her head in amusement at the title Rick had bestowed upon her, and then offered Daryl a firm handshake that he could respect. "Ma'am."

"Good to meet you, Daryl. Bernie's in the office he set up in that lawyers office down the street. You remember the one?"

"Stanton and something. Yeah."

"Rick?" Beverly asked. Her brown eyes were warm but also full of concern. "Is trouble coming?"

"Yes, ma'am," Rick said honestly.

Beverly wasn't a wilting lily. She took the news with a firm nod of her head and then motioned for Rick and Daryl to continue.

The street was quiet, deserted. It seemed that the three they'd encountered so far were the only ones to inhabit Woodbury, but Daryl knew that looks could be deceiving. For all he knew there could be several snipers positioned on the rooftops or in the top floors of the buildings looming above. Rick had said there weren't many of them; twenty-five or so. Only three of them were out to make themselves potential targets, which was smart, in Daryl's opinion.

The law office of Stanton and Jesmer was closed for business as far as the law was concerned. In fact, there was a bucket of paint outside the spacious office. Daryl could only make out the names on the sign through the first coat of primer mostly because of grooving. Rick knocked on the door before entering to see a man in his mid-sixties wiping down the mahogany receptionists desk with wood oil. He smiled brightly upon seeing Rick.

"Richard! Or possibly Patrick. Come on in!"

"Just Rick, Bernard," Rick said, accepting a hug from the older man.

"Very few people are named by a nickname," he said, wagging a finger at Rick. "Still, every man is entitled to be called what he will. Rick it is. Who is your friend?"

"Daryl Dixon. Daryl, this is Bernard Ashman."

After a shaking of hands, Bernard offered them bottles of water and motioned for them to sit down.

"I take it you talked to your group leader, Brian?"

Rick nodded. "It isn't good news, just as I thought. He's going to take Woodbury, Bernard. He's not a man to take prisoners, either."

Bernard took the bad news with aplomb. He nodded and regarded the street outside with composure while he sipped his water.

"We have guns, you know. Our men are good at shooting."

"They're good at shooting walkers. I honestly don't think they have it in them to kill living men," Rick doubted.

"I think Rick's right. The men on the wall had shaky hands when they saw us drive up, before they realized it was Rick," said Daryl.

Bernard nodded. "Here's the thing. We've been running since this thing started. We finally found a good place, a place we can call our own. We're tired of being bullied by men and picked off by walkers, Rick, Daryl. There comes a time when a man, and a woman, has to make a stand for what's theirs. That time is now."

Rick sighed heavily and exchanged a glance with Daryl. This was exactly the kind of reaction Rick had feared Bernard would have.

"Bernard…I respect that philosophy-"

"But it's gonna get you and all your people killed," Daryl broke in. He stood, gripped his crossbow, and aimed it right at Bernard.

"Daryl, what the fuck are you doing?" Rick questioned.

"I'm gonna take this crossbow outside right now and put a bolt through Beverly's leg," Daryl said. "The only thing that's gonna stop me is you."

Bernard looked rather alarmed at Daryl's sudden display of aggression. He looked at Rick. "Is he serious?"

"I honestly don't know. Are you serious, Daryl?"

There was something in Rick's expression that told Bernard this wasn't some stunt the two men had cooked up on their way to Woodbury, and that alarmed him.

"I'm as serious as a hungry walker," Daryl said. "Rick said you may not listen so I decided, on the way here, I'm going to give you a little taste of what the Governor is gonna lay down on you and your people when he rolls in here with men who are every bit as bad as he is. I'm not fuckin' with you old man! I'm gonna put a bolt in your woman. I could hit an artery and make her bleed out in the street. You're the only thing standing between me and her."

Daryl swung around and started for the door. His hand rested on the knob when he heard the click behind him. He looked around and found Bernard had raised his gun.

"Why would you bring a man like him here?" Bernard asked shakily. His hand trembled.

"I didn't know he'd do this," said Rick, tightly. "Daryl, stop this and sit-"

"No. I ain't stoppin' shit. You want me to stop, Bernard? Then you stop me. It's me or your wife."

He opened the door and a shot fired.

"Daryl!" Rick yelled.

The shot shattered the window to Daryl's right. He didn't flinch, much, and kept on outside.

"That's the only warning you're going to get! Stop!" shouted Bernard.

Daryl gave him a single glance before he continued on, stalking down the street, with Bernard and Rick hot on his tail.

"Daryl, that's enough!" Rick insisted, but Daryl wasn't listening, and he wasn't going to stop.

Daryl ignored Rick. Bernard tried to rush past him but Daryl shoved him out of the way. He reached the gate and leveled his bow at Beverly, who stood with her hand on her knife, watching the confrontation with confusion, but also stoicly, her back straight, her eyes locked on Daryl's.

"Last chance, Bernard," said Daryl. He glanced at the men on the wall. "How about ya'll? Anybody gonna make a move to save Woodbury's official First Lady? Huh? Anybody gonna stop me from putting a bolt in her?"

Daryl's crossbow was level and steady, as it would be in the hands of a man who'd killed living humans as well as walkers in his lifetime, and never lifted it unless he intended to fire it. The men on the wall aimed at him, but their hands trembled even harder than Bernard's. None of them were capable of doing what it took to protect Beverly.

"Its okay, Bernard," Beverly said. "I love you. If you can't kill, even for me, I don't think any less of you for it. In fact, I don't want you killing anyone, not even for my safety."

"And that attitude," said Daryl, lowering his crossbow, "is exactly what's gonna get every single one of y'all killed when the Governor rolls up to this wall."

Bernard sighed and sagged when the crossbow was lowered. So did the men on the wall. Rick shook his head, his heart thudding hard in his chest. He'd genuinely been confused and scared that Daryl would shoot Beverly. He knew the Dixon brother's, especially Merle, to be erratic, unpredictable. For a brief moment he was certain Daryl was going to make good on his threat against Beverly. Thankfully, he'd just been illustrating a point in a way that no amount of talking from Rick was going to accomplish.

"You lucked up when Rick found you," Daryl said to Bernard. "He's a good man. He's a man of honor. The Governor ain't. He'll kill your men, and what women he decides to take will wish they were dead, real quick."

A shot suddenly rang out. Rick thought, for a moment, someone had gotten the nerve up to take Daryl out. Instead, Donny cried out in pain. He looked down, blood blossomed from a massive hole in his chest. He fell forward, hitting the street in front of Rick, Daryl, and Bernard, dead. His body barely missed Beverly, who gasped and rushed to her husband's side.

"What the fuck?" Rick said. He hurried to the ladder beside the gate and climbed up, Daryl close behind. When they got there, the remaining man, Rick thought his name was Ned, stood shaking and wet from having pissed himself.

On the other side of the wall were two men. Shane Walsh, Lee Magwood, and Merle Dixon. Shane's gun was still aimed at the wall, at Ned. Rick shoved him from the wall. Ned may break an ankle in the fall, but he'd survive it, which was more than Rick could guarantee if he remained in Shane's sights.

"Rick, we thought you'd be here," Shane said, smiling coolly at him. "The Governor sends his regards."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** I'm ending this fic in this chapter. I'll be continuing the story, though, in a sequel featuring Rick and Michonne. Because I'm having issues with formatting when I upload stories, I'm going to differentiate scene breaks with bold italic text. That should make it easier to distinguish scene breaks.

* * *

"_**Come on, man, open the**_ gate," Shane insisted.

"Why? So you can gun down more innocent people?"

Shane shook his head and looked exasperated. "This ain't about these people, Rick. This is about us. It's about you and where your loyalties lie."

"These people have done nothing-"

"These people ain't ours!"

Rick sighed. Talking to Shane could be like talking to a brick wall at times, if a brick wall could get pissed off at the drop of a hat.

"They're not a threat."

Daryl leaned over the side of the wall and looked Bernard in the eye. "Get your people out of here, now."

Bernard nodded. He and Beverly helped Ned limp up the street, going, Daryl hoped, to an exit that would give them a chance to survive. They hadn't even reached the law office when another shot, then another, rang out.

"We have all the gates surrounded," Merle said. "Nobody's getting out of here without meeting up with Shane first."

"You his bitch now?" Daryl asked Merle. His brother spit a mouthful of tobacco juice out but said nothing.

"Shane, put a stop to this, now!" Rick shouted.

"No, man, _you_ put a stop to it. Pick your side and fight."

"I could ask you to do the same," Rick said. "Me or the Governor. We were friends years before we teamed up with Brian Blake."

"It's because of that friendship that I haven't gunned you down," Shane shot back. "You want me to choose, Rick? I choose Brian. I pick him because he understands what it takes to survive in this world."

"You think I don't?"

"I know you don't. If you did, Lori and Carl would still be alive."

"You shout your goddamn mouth!" Rick snarled. "You don't mention my family! You don't get to throw them in my face."

Shane wasn't about to back down. "Oh, but I think I do. You left them vulnerable in that town so you could rescue a stranger who got bit and damn near took you out when he turned. I told you not to go, Rick. Brian would never have picked strangers over his own and neither would I. Now, I ain't gonna tell you again. Pick a side. Do it now or I'll pick for you."

Rick followed Daryl's gaze. He saw that Beverly, Bernard, and Ned were now lying dead in the street. Several recognizable men from their camp were marching toward them.

"We tried, man. Better the devil you know," Daryl said quietly, so that only Rick could hear. He clapped Rick on the arm. "We can try to fight but it'll only get us killed."

"Yeah," Rick said slowly, and stared into Shane's eyes. _The devil I know…_Their friendship was a thing of the past. That much was obvious now. Shane was just another threat.

"I choose the camp. The Governor," said Rick.

Shane nodded but he looked almost disappointed. "Wise choice. Now, let us in so I can personally secure the town. Then Daryl and Merle need to have a talk about the mess we left at home with Beth this morning."

"Beth? What happened to her?" Daryl asked quickly.

"Merle will tell you. Open the gate."

Daryl and Rick climbed down to move Donny's body. A few minutes later the gate was wide open and Shane drove in. The noise of the gunshots had attracted the attention of a few walkers. Rick counted five before he and Daryl shoved on the door and closed it, locking them out.

* * *

_**Rick was ostensibly on patrol**_, when in fact he was pacing. There were eight gates and eight dead guards to be found, even though Shane said they'd cased the place the night before and had found every escape route and now had it covered.

"They're either hiding in town or they had an emergency escape that we missed," Shane said.

"I'll bet you're going to gun them down as soon as you find them," Rick accused.

"Actually, the Governor wants the leaders gunned down, and any man who shows some teeth by pointing or firing a gun. Everyone else is to be interviewed, see if they have any skills that would be useful to the betterment of the group once we move in here. If they do, they'll live. If not, they die."

Rick didn't see a whole lot of living to be done among the Woodbury survivors. Shane nodded at the doors. "The walls here took skill to design and build. People like that can be useful to the group as a whole."

Without another word Rick started off down a deserted street to begin peering in doors. Shane stayed by his side.

"You don't have to follow me."

Shane snorted in disgust. "Come on man, don't try to bullshit me. Of course I gotta follow you. If I don't you'll help whoever you find escape."

Rick rounded on Shane. The punch took him by surprise, making Shane stagger back into the brick wall. Rick watched him rub his smarting jaw and spit out a mouthful of blood as he glared hatefully at him.

"You ever mention Lori and Carl to me again, you ever throw them up in my face again, I'll kill you, Shane. Do you hear me? I will fucking kill you, or I'll die trying. I lost my wife and son, you son of a bitch. Our friendship is over. None of our history will matter if you ever, I mean _ever_, so much as say their names to me again."

He turned and stalked off, heading toward the center of town, where the bodies were being piled up. He wanted to check for Jim and Jacqui, to see if they were among the dead. Shane didn't follow, and he didn't speak another word.

When he reached the pile of bodies he found Daryl and Merle standing nearby, talking in strained voices. It was immediately clear that Jim and Jacqui weren't among the dead. Rick was relieved. He'd sent them here to escape the hell of the camp and life under the Governor's rule. He didn't want them to die here. He didn't want more blood on his hands.

"What's going on?" Rick said, when he approached Merle and Daryl.

"Why'd you bring Daryl here?" Merle said, placing himself between Rick and his brother.

"I told you, Merle, Rick didn't force me here, I came on my own. It was my choice and I'd make it again," Daryl insisted.

Merle looked Rick up and down, trying to assess whether or not he could take him in a fight. "You steer clear of my little brother."

"Daryl's a grown man, Merle. He can decide who his friends will be," Rick reminded him.

A dark smile pulled at Merle's lips. "I've looked out for Daryl his whole life. I'll be damned if I let you get him put on the Governor's shit list. You're on your way down, Grimes. You're not dragging my brother with you."

Rick leaned in close to Merle. "You're a piece of shit, Merle. You're a redneck kiss ass who'd sell his own soul for a bottle of bourbon. I often find myself wondering how the hell you and Daryl share blood because he's ten times the man you are."

"I don't disagree with anything you said in particular," Merle said. "That won't change the fact that I'll kill you if you bring trouble down on him."

Rick nodded, barely holding his temper in check. "I'm going to let that threat, such as it is, slide, Merle, because I know you're making it to stand up for your brother. He's a good man, but he's also grown. He don't need either of us holding his hand. I'm walking away now, Merle. It would be in your best interest to keep your mouth shut, or I'll shut it for you."

Merle had the good sense not to push Rick, which he was glad for, since the stress of the day was giving him a massive headache. "I'm heading back to camp," he said. "If you're coming with me, come on. If you're staying, that's your choice."

He started for the wall and heard Daryl come up behind him.

"Daryl," Merle called.

"I'll see you back at camp," Daryl answered, but he followed after Rick, despite his brother's demands to return to stay with him in Woodbury. Rick didn't have to look back to know that Merle's face was a canvas painted with bright wide swaths of envy green and rage red.

It didn't take much for them to wipe out the five walkers that milled about by the wall. When they were down, Daryl opened the gate and Rick drove through. He waited for Daryl to climb in and then they continued on, heading south, heading back to camp.

"What's going on with your woman?" Rick asked, wishing he had some aspirin and a bottle of booze to numb everything.

"She killed a girl named Jessica. Merle says he saw the incident. It was self defense. Shane saw it too."

"Then she won't have any disciplinary problems," said Rick.

"No, but that girl is soft. She ain't gonna deal well with this. I don't need some weepy woman on my hands."

Rick snorted and rubbed his stubble coated chin. "Something tells me you don't want this girl getting too close because you're afraid to lose her. Thing is, I think you're already a goner."

Daryl didn't like it that Rick could read him so easily, but he said nothing to confirm Rick's statement.

"Let's not talk about me, all right."

Rick drove on, dodged a walker that meandered down the middle of the road, and kept going.

"I can't stay in that camp much longer, Daryl. Nobody should. It's toxic there."

"You leaving?" Daryl asked.

"I'm gonna have to, eventually."

"The people would follow you," Daryl pointed out. "If they knew you wanted to lead. If you were to take control from the Governor."

Rick shook his head. "That could get messy fast. Believe it or not that man has loyalists. The men in our camp, if you haven't noticed, have degenerated from decent people to cutthroats and rapists. They like what he provides them. They like the caveman lifestyle Brian expects of them. They deserve to live under his thumb."

"Does Andrea? Or Beth? What about Mary?"

Rick shook his head. "I've got myself to worry about, Daryl. I'm tired of trying to lead. I'm not staging a coup. I'm just gonna do what Jim and Jacqui did and leave one night when it's quiet. I'll find another group. I'll survive."

Daryl watched the trees pass by and tried to imagine life in the camp without Rick. He was the voice of reason there. If he left, there would be no one to stand up to the injustices visited upon the weaker of the group, or the women. Still, Daryl understood that a man had to do what was best for himself and his own.

"When you decide to leave let me know."

"Why?"

Daryl settled down in the seat and stared ahead, uncomfortable with what he had to say, but knowing he had to say it. "I've picked a side. It's you. When you leave, I'm leaving with you."

"What about Beth? What about Merle?"

"She'll come with me or she'll stay behind; it's her choice. I'm willing to bet she'll come with me. Merle, well, he'll have to choose too: me or the Governor. No matter what, I'm with you man. I'm with you till the end."

* * *

_**Once back at the camp**_ Rick went straight to the Governor's RV, since a man was waiting for their return to tell him he was waiting. Daryl veered off from the path to the Governor's to return to his tent. He discovered that Beth was being watched by one of the Governor's men. A soldier named Martinez. Daryl knew him not only to be in with the Governor, but he was friendly with Shane as well.

"Gov wants to see you. Now," Martinez said.

"First I heard of it. Why didn't the guy who summoned Rick tell me to come too?"

He tried to move into the tent but Martinez blocked him and put a hand on his gun. "I don't know about that. All I know is what the Governor told me to tell you."

"He say what he wants?"

"Nope. I didn't ask."

"A good little mindless soldier never does," Daryl pointed out.

"Fuck you, Dixon."

"Right back at ya," he shot back, and pointed a finger at the tent. "You lay a finger on her, I'll kill you. No questions, no fighting, you just get a bolt through the chest. I'll let you turn."

He turned away from Martinez' glare and walked on to the Governor's RV. He found the man himself talking to Rick. He spotted Daryl and motioned for him to sit.

"Take a seat," he said.

Once Daryl was seated facing him and Rick, the Governor dismissed the girl who served their tea.

"Rick was just telling me that Shane secured Woodbury and that he's chosen his side. He's home now. No more running off to play the hero to strangers instead of doing what's right for his own."

Rick didn't miss the dig regarding his family. He regarded Brian Blake, his body trembling with rage, his hand literally itching to pull his gun so he could go out in a blaze of glory and take that smug bastard with him.

In the end, all he said was, "Right."

"Good. You're home too, Daryl?"

Daryl looked at Rick, who nodded. "I am."

"That's just what I wanted to hear. Now, let's talk about the situation that happened with your woman, Beth. She killed Jessica this morning."

"From what Shane told me it was self defense," said Daryl.

"Indeed it was. However I'm concerned about the impact she's had on our camp since her arrival. Just yesterday you had to beat Rowley because of that girl. Today one of ours is dead, also because of her."

"Hold up," Daryl disagreed. He tried to keep his cool but it was hard. "Yesterday I had to beat Rowley because of Rowley. Today, Jessica's dead because of Jessica. Rowley put his hands on what's mine and I couldn't stand for that. Jessica forced Beth into a fight to the death. She lost, Beth won, and that's the only reason she's dead."

"Actually, you're to blame for this, Brian," Rick said.

The Governor turned and eyed Rick coolly. "How is that?"

"Bad leadership. You're running this group like they're a pack of rabid dogs but you expect civilized behavior. Then again, I've come to know you well enough to know that you like things the way they are, with the raping and the fighting. You don't want that to stop."

He made it a point to look the Governor over with as much scorn as possible. "You may enjoy that sort of thing but I don't. We need better laws in order to get better behavior from our people."

"If I wanted to change things, and there's not guarantee I do, what would you suggest?"

He asked the question calmly but Daryl and Rick could both see barely controlled rage seething behind his calm exterior. Rick almost wished he would make a move to give him a legitimate excuse to put him down and take their group.

"I'd suggest outlawing rape. Get rid of the token system. Treat our women like people. They shouldn't have to pair up with men they don't want, or face gang rape. If a man beats a woman she should be able to lodge a complaint and find protection. They shouldn't walk around scared and bruised. You should put me in charge of that. I was a cop. I can do that job. I can do it well."

"That would solve the abuse but not the aggression from some of our more…spirited members," the Governor pointed out.

"The men could work out their aggression in street fights," Daryl suggested. "They could fight if they wanted, or they could watch. Hell, we could even make an arena and line it with walkers as they fight. It would add a real element of danger to the sport."

To their immense surprise the Governor nodded after a long pause. They'd been certain he would blow them off, but he was listening. He was in agreement.

"I like that idea, Daryl. We'll do the arena when we move our people to Woodbury. That'll be your project. Rick, I'm putting you in charge of keeping the peace. Work on the new laws for the people with Andrea. She was a civil rights attorney. Plus, she's a woman. She'll be a valuable asset."

"I want to get started now, Brian. I don't want these women to go another night under their current circumstances."

"Fine, fine. Submit new proposals ASAP. In the meantime, you can announce that raping of unclaimed women is now illegal. Rick," he said, standing up to face Rick before the former Sheriff could walk off. They stared into one another's eyes for a long time. Rick expected a threat of some sort. Instead, the Governor took a different track. "I think you're too soft for the world as it is."

"Yeah, I've been told that before," Rick came back.

"Let me finish. I think you're too soft for what this world is now, but I believe your heart is in the right place. I think you're made for civilized society, and that's what a group needs to thrive: civility. I see no reason for us to be at odds on everything. I know that for any ruling body to work there has to be compromise. I can do better in that department, starting now. Shane is a hammer, Rick, but you…well, you're a scalpel. Do what you gotta do to cut the rot from our group. I'll give you as much support as possible."

He poured his cold tea out and went inside his RV. Rick and Daryl started out, walking together quietly until they were out of earshot of the Governor.

"That was a pretty speech," Daryl said. "You believe it?"

"Not for a second," Rick answered at once. "Still, I'm gonna do what I can to make this a better camp for however long I'm here. Andrea can give me ideas on new laws but I'm gonna need you to help me enforce them."

"You want me to be _your_ hammer?"

Rick nodded. "Every toolkit needs a good strong hammer."

"Not sure I like being called a tool, but I get where you're coming from. I'm your man."

Rick clapped him on the shoulder and gave the first genuine smile Daryl had seen from him in a long time. They split up, with Rick going to talk to Andrea, and Daryl heading home to Beth.

"You can go," Daryl told Martinez. He gave Daryl a smirk in response and stared him in the eye as he passed. Once he was gone, Daryl entered the tent to find Beth asleep, or at least pretending to be. He undressed in the gathering darkness of evening. Outside he heard Rick call the people together under the sound of distant rolling thunder.

He pressed a tender kiss to Beth's brow and stroked her hair back from her forehead. Considering the day she'd had, considering what a prick he'd been the night before, he figured she deserved some tenderness.

Beth would be able to leave him now. He and Rick would punish any man who broke the new rules but Daryl knew some men would push the boundaries, simply to test his and Rick's resolve. That would require some poor woman to be attacked first. Daryl didn't want that poor woman to be Beth.

"I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow."

"Change of plans. Listen to Rick."

They lay still and listened to Rick's announcement. It was good news, but when it was over, Beth only heaved a heavy sigh.

"She was gonna kill you," Daryl said knowing what was on her mind.

"I know."

"Still sucks," he said.

"Big time."

"You'll learn to live with it. You'll accept what you did and move on."

She looked up at him with a deep frown. "Are you being nice to me because you want me to stay and cook for you? Among other things."

"I'm being nice 'cause I regret being a dick. I like you, Beth, and I want you to…I want you. Will you stay?"

They fell silent for a long time. He worried she was going to say no. Then she quirked a smile at him and said, "Are you gonna kiss me now or not?"

Daryl did more than kiss Beth. He took his time to undress her. He took his time to caress her, lick her, suckle the most sensitive parts of her body until she moaned with pleasure and not a bit of pain. He took the time to guide her along the long, winding path to climax. When she arrived, Beth gripped Daryl with her strong thighs and came harder than she imagined possible.

He lay down next to her and watched as she disappeared into the inky black of another stormy night.

"Will you stay?" he asked again.

"Will you treat me like this?"

"Yea. I can do that. I should have always done that."

He felt her lips find his unerringly in the dark before she snuggled down into the sleeping bag with him.

"Then I'll stay."


End file.
